


tsesarevna

by tremontaine



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Babyfic, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Kid Fic, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:17:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tremontaine/pseuds/tremontaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn’t like to think about the Bad Men too much. In fact she had tried very hard to forget all about them. There had been Ma’am who had looked after her, and men in white coats who had poked at her every month, but Lizzybeth’s most favourite of all her memories was the time Ma’am had taken her to the Bad Place for the men in white coats to poke at again, and Mama had come in and knocked Ma’am down and picked Lizzybeth up and kissed her very hard. </p>
<p>Lizzybeth had never been kissed before, and she had never seen Mama before either, and she had not even been Lizzybeth then – she had just been Child – but it was still her favourite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tsesarevna

**Author's Note:**

> "Tsesarevna", according to wikipedia, was the title taken by Peter I's female heirs Elizabeth, Anna and Natalia, and was also given to the wife of the tsesarevich or heir-apparent.

Her Imperial Majesty Elizabeth Rose, Imperatrix Regina, Empress and Autocrat of all she surveyed, was not fond of kindergarten.

“People,” she announced, “are stupid.”

Captain Bear thought this was rude. Captain Bear wasn’t anything like Papa ordinarily, but sometimes there were similarities.

“Yes they are,” said Mama. “But you have to live with people for the rest of your life, Lizzybeth.”

Lizzybeth glowered. “Shan’t,” she said. “I’ma live in the Brown House for ever and ever and people will bring me food and books an Captain Bear an Bucky Bear will do all the talking.”

“That’s not likely,” said Mama. Sometimes Mama was very literal. Lizzybeth stuck her tongue out at her. Mama crossed her arms over her chest. When Mama did this in uniform ordinary people did one of two things: either they ran away or they started talking very, very fast. Lizzybeth was not ordinary people. Lizzybeth was Lizzybeth, and she didn’t want to go to kindergarten. She wanted to stay home in the Brown House and bake cookies with Daddy, just like yesterday.

“Don’t you have any friends?” said Mama.

Lizzybeth gave this due consideration. Molly was funny. And Peter was nice. And she always swapped half her sandwiches with Hannah-from-Germany because they both liked each other’s sandwiches.

“I doooooooooooooo,” she said at last, and saw that this made Mama very relieved. Her shoulders went down and sloped. It always puzzled Lizzybeth that other people couldn’t tell what Mama was thinking by her shoulders.

“Oh, good,” said Mama. “Well don’t you want to see them?”

“Maybe,” Lizzybeth said cautiously. There was a trap here.

“And show them your shiny new shoes?”

She did have shiny new shoes. They were blue the way the sky was blue when Lizzybeth leant backwards on the swing in the back yard and looked up and up and up until she was dizzy, and they had little silver buckles, and she could buckle them all by herself, because she was five now and nearly a grown up.

Lizzybeth was wavering. Everyone would admire her shiny new sky-shoes. She felt this in her soul. But cookies with Daddy. Plus the sun was out and Papa liked to sit in the back yard when the sun was out and draw, and he let Lizzybeth colour with his pretty grown up pencils even though Daddy and Mama both said this was sacrilege and the Imperatrix Regina has her own pencils, Steve, don’t let her ruin yours.

And then Mama cheated. “Please, Yelizaveta, for me,” she said in Russian. This was Dirty Pool. Russian was their Secret Language for dreadfully important things, like I love yous that nobody else would understand – even Daddy and Papa pretended not to understand – and Lizzybeth felt that Mama had no right to desecrate it by using it for kindergarten.

Then again, maybe kindergarten was dreadfully important to Mama.

She sighed.

Mama clapped her hands, grinning.

“Hello,” said Daddy, sticking his head in the door. “Is it mutiny?”

“She’s going,” said Mama.

“You know, if she really hates it –“ Daddy said.

“She doesn’t hate it,” Mama said. “She’s just stubborn. It’s good for her, it’s normal.”

Mama was sometimes very concerned with Lizzybeth being normal. She seemed to think it was something you did in order to grow up clever and good, like eating your vegetables.

“You’re probably right,” said Daddy. But when Mama’s back was turned he winked at Lizzybeth. That meant he would extract her if she was really desperate. Lizzybeth shook her head. If it would make Mama happy she would do it. Besides, everyone would admire her shoes. She put on her bluest dress and her whitest socks and her purple-est cardigan, and she picked up Captain Bear by his furry ankle and marched to the stairs. Bump bump bump, went Captain Bear’s helmet on every step. This was exactly like Edward Bear. Daddy had read Winnie the Pooh to Lizzybeth back when she was awfully little – only four – and ever since then Lizzybeth had brought Captain Bear down the stairs the same way Christopher Robin carried Edward Bear, as a compliment. Captain Bear had been very flattered and said he was proud to rank the same as Edward Bear.

Papa was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, leaning over the staircase railing and smiling. “Emergency protocol?” he said, like he said every morning.

“If a ‘mergency happens call you or Daddy or Mama soonest,” said Lizzybeth promptly. “If it’s only a little ‘mergency you’ll come and get me straightaway. If it’s a big ‘mergency Uncle Sam or Uncle Clint will come and get me so you can blow up the Bad Men without worrying about me.”

Lizzybeth was unclear on the exact identity and intentions of the Bad Men – she was imperially uninterested in villain motivations – but she knew that the Bad Men had taken her away from Mama when she was so little she wasn’t yet ready to be born, and that as a consequence of this she had not in fact been born like ordinary people, but had come out of a tank instead (Uncle Tony called it being hatched and sometimes called Lizzybeth The Duckling when he thought she couldn’t hear), and that the Bad Men had hidden her from Mama and Daddy and kept them apart and done something to Daddy that had resulted in something called Odessa, and that while all this had been happening Papa had been fast asleep and lost under the ice – Lizzybeth had a confused idea this was also the fault of the Bad Men – which was why he hadn’t been able to help them.

She didn’t like to think about the Bad Men too much. In fact she had tried very hard to forget all about them. There had been Ma’am who had looked after her, and men in white coats who had poked at her every month, but they had never given her shiny new shoes or Captain Bear or emergency phones or colouring pencils, and she had not had rocketship wallpaper or an Uncle Sam or even a Mama and Daddy and Papa. Lizzybeth’s most favourite of all her memories was the time Ma’am had taken her to the Bad Place for the men in white coats to poke at again, and Mama had come in and knocked Ma’am down and picked Lizzybeth up and kissed her very hard.

Lizzybeth had never been kissed before, and she had never seen Mama before either, and she had not even been Lizzybeth then – she had just been Child – but it was still her favourite.

Anyway. Papa said, “That’s right. And you’re not to worry about a thing if anything happens. Just keep your head down and wait for us and look after Captain Bear.”

Lizzybeth said, “Captain Bear looks after me.”

“Of course he does,” said Papa, and kissed her.

Kindergarten was miles and miles away, over in Manhattan in the Tower. This made emergencies extremely unlikely, because JARVIS ran the Tower, and Tony and Bruce and Pepper and Maria and Rhodey were usually right upstairs. Still, Lizzybeth understood that girl scouts and good soldiers were always prepared for anything, and while she had no intention of being a good soldier – Daddy and Papa were both very clear on this being A Bad Idea – she rather liked the idea of being a girl scout, whatever that was. It sounded adventuresome, like the Famous Five.

This morning there was a new boy – his name was Danny and he was from Oahu, which was on Hawai’i, which was an island with jungles and volcanoes. Or so Lizzybeth had thought; Danny said that actually there was more than one island, and he said ‘mahalo’ instead of thank you and told everyone that aloha meant both hello and goodbye, which sounded very impractical to Lizzybeth.

“Lizzybeth,” Danny said. “What’s wrong with Elizabeth?”

“E-li-za-beth goes up and down like a rollercoaster,” said Lizzybeth. “Lizzybeth is all on a level. D’you like blue shoes?” She stuck out her foot from under the table to show him.

“They’re pretty,” said Danny admiringly. This endeared him to Lizzybeth at once, even more than the stories about the volcanoes. “Hey, have you ever met Iron Man?”

“Never,” said Lizzybeth. This was true. Uncle Tony refused to let her near the suit. He said she was Mama’s mini-me and he didn’t trust her, and then he always gave her cake.

Danny looked disappointed. “What about Captain America?”

“Not very much,” said Lizzybeth. She was composing a picture of the Brown House and wondering if a cat or a dog would be easier to draw in the garden. “Papa’s only Captain America when the Bad Men come. Then he gets his shield out and sens’ble people duck and run. Only of course the Bad Men aren’t sens’ble. That’s why they’re bad.”

Danny dropped his pencils. “Captain America is your Dad?”

Lizzybeth sighed. People always got this wrong. “Daddy’s my dad,” she said. “Papa’s my papa.” How was she supposed to tell them apart if she had to call them both Dad? No one would ever know who she was ordering about. It was all right for Mama. She called them James and Steve and that was just fine.

“But,” said Danny, awed.

“No one ever asks about Mama,” said Lizzybeth. “I’ve got Captain Bear and Bucky Bear but not a Widow Bear. I don’t think that’s the least bit fair.” How were Captain Bear and Bucky Bear supposed to be properly happy without Widow? They never complained, but Lizzybeth was indignant on their behalf. Even worse, what about Widow, out there all on her own without anyone to call her Tasha and make her laugh and kiss her and wrap his arms round her from behind and kiss her neck when she was drinking her morning coffee? It was intolerable.

“Wowwwwwww,” said Danny. “I mean no I guess it isn’t fair.”

Lizzybeth shook her head firmly. The Imperatrix Regina had spoken. When lunch came she and Hannah-from-Germany swapped half their sandwiches, and Danny told everyone about surfing, which sounded really exciting, and Miss Tanner proclaimed nap time earlier than usual, but that was OK. Lizzybeth liked nap time. She got to lie down and read and snooze all warm and comfortable. Miss Tanner didn’t read stories as well as Daddy did, but this was only to be expected.

See, Lizzybeth didn’t really need naptimes. Other kids did, but Lizzybeth was Different. This was, in some strange way, both Papa and Daddy’s fault and the reason the men in white coats had used to poke at her once a month before Mama came. Thus, when the Bad Man came in and walked over to Miss Tanner and Miss Tanner went all white and afraid and pointed at Danny and the Bad Man walked across to Danny and picked him up, Lizzybeth was not asleep – was not even tired – and saw everything that happened perfectly well.

She remembered being poked, and called Child all the time, and having Ma’am snap at her when she tried to play. It wasn’t fun. Danny didn’t deserve a Ma’am, or the men in white coats.

Lizzybeth chewed on her bottom lip. This was unquestionably an emergency. But JARVIS hadn’t noticed. And Miss Tanner was helping the Bad Man. Maybe that was why JARVIS hadn’t noticed? But what could she do – the Bad Man mustn’t know she was awake.

He left with Danny very quietly, while Danny was fast asleep, and after the door had shut and Miss Tanner had sat down, very pale indeed, Lizzybeth sat up.

“I need the loo,” she whispered, and Miss Tanner nodded. “Where’s Danny?”

Miss Tanner looked panicked. “He – his Daddy came to get him.”

Lizzybeth pursed her lips, but nodded. This seemed highly unlikely, given that the Bad Man had been pale and blond like her Papa, but Danny was Hawaiian and had dark skin and very black hair. Lizzybeth’s own hair was red as red could be, just like Mama’s. Daddy and Papa were very fond of both Mama and Lizzybeth’s hair. They said it was the prettiest hair in the whole wide world.

She slipped out ‘to go the bathroom’, holding Captain Bear upright by the waist. This was no time for formalities.

“JARVIS,” she said, “where is Danny?”

“A moment, Miss Elizabeth,” said JARVIS in his crisp voice. “Do you refer to Danny Kalani, who was just picked up from your kindergarten class by a man identified as his father’s chauffeur?”

“He was a Bad Man,” said Lizzybeth firmly.

JARVIS fell silent for a moment. Then he said, “Third corridor on the left towards the lower garages, Miss Elizabeth. I shall inform your parents.”

“Tell Papa to bring his shield,” said Lizzybeth, and set out as fast as she could. It was a long corridor and she had never been this far down it before: the second on the right took you to the elevators and the lobby where Daddy or Mama or Papa would be waiting to pick her up after kindergarten ended. “JARVIS, Miss Tanner let him in because she was very scared of him.”

JARVIS said, “I have informed Sir and am examining Miss Tanner’s background as we speak, Miss Elizabeth. The Tower is now in lock-down.”

Lizzybeth thought of something. “She’s got a little girl.” It was a part of the story about Lizzybeth being hatched and the Bad Men that they had kept her because they thought that they could tell Mama and Daddy what to do if they did – which just went to show that you didn’t have to be clever to be Bad. Miss Tanner’s little girl must be littler than Lizzybeth.

“Miss Elizabeth,” said JARVIS, “I think it inadvisable for you to pursue the culprits without appropriate back-up.” Which was JARVIS-speak for ‘don’t do it without your parents’.

Lizzybeth sighed. “There isn’t time to argue, this isn’t a normal ‘mergency!” She plunged down the third corridor on the right as fast as she could. Kidnapped kids died all the time, it was on the news. If it got really, really bad… she didn’t like to think about it, because it belonged to Ma’am and the Bad Men, but she knew perfectly well where the best place on someone’s leg was to stab them so that they bled so much they died. She knew other things too, but that was the most useful one because she was still really short. The only trouble was, she didn’t have a knife. The Bad Man would, though. “Protocol Seven-Alpha-Ninety-Two.”

JARVIS was a machine and didn’t have feelings, but Lizzybeth was pretty sure she had just offended him mortally. No one but the Avengers were supposed to have the ninety-two protocol to lock JARVIS down to their own personal voice commands. Uncle Tony could override it of course, but it would take him a few minutes, and by then Lizzybeth would have saved Danny.

She hoped.

“Where next?”

Up ahead, JARVIS opened a door for her. It went into a stairwell, where the floors and walls were white and the light was very bright, like a doctor’s office. Lizzybeth stuck her head over the railings and peered down. The man was ahead of her, but he’d had to stop because Danny had woken up and was fighting him. She couldn’t hear much, because the Bad Man had a hand over Danny’s mouth, but the Bad Man was saying some of Mama’s favourite angry words, the ones she wasn’t supposed to repeat.

Lizzybeth backed against the wall and began to walk down the stairs as quietly as she could. It was no use. The shoes – her beautiful shiny new sky-shoes – had to come off. They were much, much too loud.

Biting her lip, she bent and undid the buckles. She wouldn’t cry. They were only shoes, and if she lost them Mama and Daddy and Papa would get her another pair. _Things aren’t important_ , Daddy had said the first time Lizzybeth had broken a glass in the kitchen, _you are, my Lizzybeth_.

Captain Bear thought she was very brave, and said he loved her very much. Wait till he told Bucky Bear!

She went much quicker on her bare feet. The Bad Man was struggling to get out of the door to the garage while still holding on to Danny, and he didn’t notice Lizzybeth until she was standing right in front of him. Danny thrashed about frantically. The Bad Man jumped a mile.

“Please,” said Lizzybeth, putting on her most baby-like voice, “I’m lost. Can you tell me where my Papa is?”

The Bad Man stared at her. It was rude to stare, Papa said so. “The fuck am I supposed to know,” he said. “Get out of here, kid. Beat it!” He yelled at her, red in the face, and Lizzybeth swung Captain Bear by both ankles and hit him very hard in the knee.

No one else ever played with Captain Bear because he was so heavy, and the reason he was so heavy was because he had a bag of sand inside him for just this kind of emergency. Mama had sewn it in herself while Lizzybeth held the patient’s paw and sung to him.

It wasn’t enough to hurt him, of course, but the Bad Man yelled in surprise and staggered, falling against the door and dropping down so that Lizzybeth could hit him again – around the head this time – and Danny managed to get away and turned lightning-quick and kicked the Bad Man in his privates.

“Run!” Lizzybeth shouted at him while the Bad Man was yelling, but before either of them could go anywhere the door behind the Bad Man swung outwards and open, and the Bad Man fell backwards nearly on top of Daddy’s boots.

Daddy had a gun, but he snapped the safety off and dropped it when he saw Lizzybeth and Danny and stomped on the Bad Man’s face very angrily. Then he said, “Lizochka,” in that voice he got whenever Lizzybeth or Mama or Papa did something and Daddy loved them so much he couldn’t stand it, and he dropped to his knees and held his arms out to her.

Lizzybeth ran to him. It was only a couple of steps and she nearly bowled him over. He lifted her onto his lap and held her very very tight and kissed her hair and face all over.

“That was totally unnecessary,” he said, “and stupidly dangerous, and very very brave, and I’m so proud of you I could burst.”

Lizzybeth wriggled. “Mama,” she said. “Papa.”

Daddy kissed her another couple of times for good measure and then he put his hand to his ear and said, “Steve, Tasha, I’ve got her, she’s safe, she’s safe.” Then he said, “West garage, stairwell entrance. I don’t _know_ why JARVIS isn’t –“

“That was me,” said Lizzybeth. “I ninety-two’d him. I had to.”

Daddy was still laughing when Mama caught up to them half a minute later. She picked Lizzybeth up and swung her round and round and kissed her just as hard as Daddy had, and then she turned around and dumped Lizzybeth into Papa’s outstretched arms. Daddy was talking to Danny. Lizzybeth put her arms round Papa’s neck and said, “I told you Captain Bear would look after me.”

Beside them Mama made a noise as if she was about to start crying. It was probably Lizzybeth’s imagination; Mama never cried. She leant her head against Lizzybeth’s back and ruffled her hair.

Lizzybeth peered over Papa’s shoulder. “You didn’t bring your shield,” she said accusatorily.

“I don’t take it grocery shopping, Lizzy-love,” said Papa. He sounded choked. Honestly – parents. They made such a fuss.

 

+++

 

Uncle Tony changed the ninety-two protocol immediately, and Lizzybeth apologised very humbly to JARVIS and thanked him for his help, which he accepted after a brief but frosty silence. Then Lizzybeth had to solemnly promise not to go looking for the new ninety-two code, which she solemnly and earnestly did, looking up seriously at Uncle Tony with her hands folded in front of her so he could see she wasn’t crossing her fingers.

Behind his back, Papa winked at her.

 

+++

 

Maria had gone to rescue Miss Tanner’s little girl from the Bad Men, and Miss Tanner cried a lot and kissed Lizzybeth and apologised over and over until Mama marched Lizzybeth out of the room into the corridor, where Daddy and Papa were kissing and Papa was saying, “Nothing happened because we got there, you paranoid idiot, and also because she’s _our_ daughter, haven’t you noticed,” and Mama put Lizzybeth in Daddy’s arms and ordered them to cuddle all the way home. This was the best part of the day yet, at least until Papa reached into his jacket pocket in the cab and produced Lizzybeth’s beautiful sky-shoes, completely unharmed. For a minute Lizzybeth stared at them. Then, to her own utter horror, she burst into tears.

“Been a long day,” said the cabbie sympathetically.

“Unbelievably,” said Mama. It wasn’t a very big cab and she was mostly sitting on Papa’s knee, right in the middle. Mama stroked Lizzybeth’s hair as she cried and Daddy rocked her gently and Papa leaned forwards and put Lizzybeth’s socks and shoes back on but left them unbuckled, and then he kissed her hands, one after the other.

“My brave girl,” Mama murmured.

“I had to,” Lizzybeth choked, “I just had to – nobody should have a Ma’am or the men in white coats, nobody, it isn’t fair, you don’t get sky-shoes or a Bucky Bear or a Mama or –“

“Shhhhhh.” Daddy kissed her hair and produced a handkerchief from somewhere which Lizzybeth pressed her face into, sniffling. “It’s all right, Lizochka. You did right, and you did it beautifully, and we love you so, so much.”

But that didn’t really help. Lizzybeth sobbed all the way over the Brooklyn Bridge and most of the way home, when she began to be so tired she couldn’t keep crying, even though she wanted to. The Brown House was all lit up and welcoming, and Uncle Sam was standing on the front steps with Bucky Bear.

Lizzybeth took Captain Bear by his ankle and Bucky Bear under her other arm and said, “I’ve decided. I want a dog for Christmas.” Christmas was years and years away, but it never hurt to be firm with parents. You could never tell what silliness they might get up to.

Uncle Sam said, “No permanent damage, then,” and kissed her.

“None,” said Papa. “Thank god. They found the ransom note in the guy’s car, he meant to leave it in the garage I think.”

“Bunch of sick f-“ Uncle Sam broke off and looked at Lizzybeth sideways.

“Fucks,” Lizzybeth said helpfully, and all four of her best grown-ups started laughing at once.

 

+++

 

Once she woke up in the night and had to go to the bathroom. Bucky Bear came with her. He had been very indignant all evening that he had missed the fun, but it wasn’t Lizzybeth’s _fault_ it wasn’t his week to come to kindergarten. On her way back she heard voices in the big bedroom and paused; there was a dim light under the door. Should she go in? Maybe someone was having a nightmare. In the first months after they had brought her home, Lizzybeth would sometimes wake up at night and find Daddy in the big rocking chair in the corner of her room, watching over her. It was awf’ly comforting. Mama always came and got into bed with her and cuddled. Papa would sit by the window and draw her in the light from the streetlamps and the moon. Lizzybeth knew they did that because they had nightmares just as much as because she did.

She crept to the door and put her hand up to the handle when Mama said, “ _Steve_ ,” in a very odd sort of voice, but then Daddy started laughing softly – if Daddy was laughing it was all right. Lizzybeth thought they were probably doing kissing things. Yick. She wasn’t about to get involved in that. It was bad enough coming downstairs on Saturday mornings and finding Mama on the kitchen counter kissing Papa with her legs over his hips.

“Love you,” Daddy’s voice said, pitched low but carrying, “love you so much…”

Kissing things sounded about right. Lizzybeth went back to bed, glad none of them were having nightmares.

 

+++

 

The next morning Papa made Lizzybeth scrambled eggs and hot chocolate for breakfast, and Lizzybeth ate with gusto. She had been promised no kindergarten for a week, not least because they had to find a new teacher, and after breakfast she was going to go out to the back yard and swing and swing until she fell off, and then she was going to sit with Mama and read, and then she was going to paint with Papa, and then she was going to play catch with Daddy and if she was especially good she might get him to agree to going to see Rikki and then –

The doorbell rang. Lizzybeth sniffed. What disloyal subject dared disturb her day of rest? This was intolerable. She got down from the table to make her complaints, and found it was Danny.

“I didn’t say thank you yesterday,” he said. He was holding tightly to the hand of a man Lizzybeth assumed was his actual Daddy, and in the other hand he held a wrapped bundle. “Thank you ever so much, Lizzybeth.”

“That’s OK,” said Lizzybeth. “You kicked him.”

Danny grinned in delight at this fond memory and handed her the bundle. “There. For you.”

“For me?” Lizzybeth was amazed and gleeful. She tore into the wrapping paper there and then – Uncle Sam had said last Christmas that only rude people waited to open presents – and from the scraps emerged – Lizzybeth shrieked – a Widow Bear, proper gauntlets and belt and all.

“Yes yes yes!” She flung her arms round Danny and kissed him and spun round: “Mama look! Look!”

“She’s lovely,” said Mama, looking horrified. Papa and Daddy were in stitches and trying very hard to hide it. Danny’s father was saying something about going into production – Lizzybeth deduced that he made toys for a living – but she was too busy charging up the stairs to listen properly.

“Captain! Bucky Bear!” She crashed into her bedroom, nearly tripped over her Duplo set on the floor, careened around the bed and fell on her bears. “Here,” she said to Widow, “this is your home now and you’re back together and they’ve missed you awf’lly haven’t they and now” – she had to pause to draw a breath – “now you can be _properly_ happy and you don’t ever have to be alone again.” She smushed them together and made sure they were cuddling properly.

“Lizzybeth!” Daddy bellowed from downstairs. “Come back down and be polite, please!”

Lizzybeth ran back downstairs at top speed and kissed Danny again. “Thank you!” she said. “I just had to take her home because she’s been alone all by herself and would you like some scrambled eggs? Or some hot chocolate?”

“Thank you very much,” said Danny’s father, “but I’m afraid we have to go. His mother’s waiting.”

“Oh well,” said Lizzybeth. “If it’s your mama.” She leant back against her own Mama’s legs and smiled when Mama put her arms round Lizzybeth’s shoulders. Danny waved on his way out the door; then it closed behind them and Lizzybeth was alone in the Brown House with the people she loved most of anyone.

There was a long, fond silence. Then Lizzybeth sighed happily. “You know,” she said, “if I had a little brother or a sister I could play with them always and wouldn’t _have_ to go to kindergarten.”

The silence turned appalled. Lizzybeth grinned.

“I think we’ll just get you a dog,” Mama said very firmly.

 

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [tsesarevna [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2888483) by [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass)




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